


I'm Sorry For The Things I've Done

by dieselfuels



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, PTSD (Venom), Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, graphic depictions of panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dieselfuels/pseuds/dieselfuels
Summary: Ocelot was never annoyed by these moments. He had known Snake at his most low. A shivering, half-blind mess out in the mud in Cyprus. Or, strung up in Groznyj Grad, sweaty and barbecued, mewling in pain. To see Big Boss, or even his mimic, vulnerable like this was rare, something only Ocelot had.





	

Waves crashed into the supports of Mother Base’s residential unit, tugging back and forth at steel refusing to budge. It was a dark, hot night- a little after the official call for lights out.  

Ocelot knocked on a meal door twice, asking if he could come in.

“Yeah.”

Finding Big Boss lying in bed, still fully clothed in his field gear with a thousand mile stare, the spy sighed gently through his nose, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

 

“You’ve been back at base for a few hours now.”

He was met with a grunt.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?”

 

Boss scrunched his face, closing his good eye tightly and nodding gently. His reaction was met with a gentle touch to the shoulder and the two wordlessly shifted into spooning. The bed was lumpy, thin and a tight fit for two grown men but, the interaction was still welcomed. “Boss.” Ocelot gently pried the soldier’s forearm out of his own mouth, rubbing the wet bitemark, “It’s gonna be alright.”

Panic attacks like this one were sadly common. Usually at odd hours of the night when no man with any common sense should be up. Venom would refuse to go to sleep because of the nightmares, which led to morbid thought loops, which _then_ led to the biting, shivering and silent crying. This would then last until somebody intervened or he passed out. Ocelot had tried, with little luck, to start him on some sort of med regimen after watching this happen when Kaz came home. But, between medics who refuse to believe The Legendary Soldier could _ever_ be haunted by trauma and, Venom’s unwillingness to talk about it, the situation felt hopeless and stagnant, therefore becoming a topic not meant for discussion.

Ocelot took Boss’s hair out of its ponytail, shaking it loose, “Did you come up here as soon as you landed?”

He was met with a low whimper, “yeah.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to take a bath and wash all the mud off of you.”

Venom took in a few short breaths, “I don’t know. I don’t-”

“ _Shh_ , Just ride it out. It’s alright.”

The merc rolled over, burying his face in Ocelot’s chest, moaning hard and low in frustration. They both laid for a while like this, lulled by the other’s company.The room filled with a soft hush, save for their breathing and stressed whimpering. Ocelot was never annoyed by these moments. He had known Snake at his most low. A shivering, half-bind mess out in the mud in Cyprus. Or, strung up in Groznyj Grad, sweaty and barbecued, mewling in pain. To see Big Boss, or even his mimic, vulnerable like this was rare, something only Ocelot had.

He struggled between savoring the moment and then guilting himself for being happy to have it. The spy knew, deep down, his hand had nudged Venom to be this much of a mess. You don’t come out of brainwashing completely healthy. The wet, muddy memories of MSF sinking into the ocean, of failing to save Paz... They clearly didn’t help much of anything either.

Ocelot took off his gloves and stuffed them in a back pocket, tracing the scars on Boss’s face, “What happened?”

“I- The helicopter? There was turbulence. It- _She_ -”

“ _Shh_. Sh. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

 

Venom started hyperventilating, which led to a few small hiccups before he finally settled down enough for Ocelot to get a word in.

 

“What do you wanna do, Boss?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“What about a bath? That’s a good place to start as any.”

The merc slowly sat up, adjusting his eyepatch as he crawled over Ocelot to stand, “Will you help me?”

“Of course, just don’t-” A knee hit him in the head.

“You okay?”

Ocelot sighed, “Yeah.”  

Boss slowly lurched into the connecting room to turn on his bath, the deafening sound of rushing water echoing against bathroom walls. Ocelot responded by standing erect, rolling his sleeves to his elbows, “I’m gonna come in and wash your hair after I finish making the bed.”

The bathroom door wasn’t fully shut, and the two made brief eye contact as Venom undressed. Ocelot forced his glance away and got up, stripping the small mattress of its sheets. He stretched thin, fresh linens that had been laid out days ago over the mattress and the thought of laying Venom here flashed in his mind. Gentle petting and kissing leading to heavy, passionate fucking. The spy scowled the thought away, knowing it was beyond inappropriate right now.

 

“Feel any better yet?” He slinked into the bathroom, leaning in the doorway while trying to keep his eyes on Venom’s back.

The other man responded with a low grunt, washing his face thoroughly with a bar of ivory soap.

 

Ocelot started to pick up the fatigues littered on the floor, checking the pockets before throwing them into a hamper. Some empty wrappers from a ration, a feather, and some pocket lint. The feather was placed on the dresser, the rest in the trash, and the Boss’s boots were then set outside of the bathroom door. A tiny sigh seeped out of Ocelot as kneeled down beside the bathtub, “Are you ready?”

Venom nodded, leaning forward as Ocelot kneeled down, squirting a glob of shampoo into his hand and massaging it firmly into the soldier’s hair. Another thought of him taking the Boss- here, in the bathroom. Wet hands grasping at dry, starched fabric. Teeth digging into soft shoulders. Ocelot almost completely clothed, gun holster strewn across the floor as he takes every inch of _his_ Boss.

“Alright. Go rinse off.” Ocelot stood up and rinsed his hand in the sink and shook it dry, leaving the room and avoiding any and all eye contact.

 

His feelings for Venom, specifically, were loaded. One one hand, it was easy to pretend he was the real Big Boss. He was quiet enough that you could project onto him. They looked like one another, their mannerisms were similar enough. It gelled.

On the other hand, it was infuriating to have to keep up this charade. The past nine years Ocelot went through every stage of grief trying to wrap his head around this. Denial: “John will wake up before anyone can _truly_ implement this”.  Anger: “This is Kaz’s fault. No, this is Zero’s fault!” Or, most commonly, “I should have been with him”. Bargaining: “Please God, put me in his place”. Depression: “He’s never going to wake up. I shouldn’t even care anymore”. Acceptance- “If I don’t do this for him, who will? _Miller_?”. A lot of these feelings were ultimately taken out on Venom in very subtle ways. Ocelot often waffled between “distant; cold” and “caretaker” without a blink of an eye. He wanted to push him away, treat him as shitty as he could get away with, but it was near impossible.

Both of them were hurting. Over the same things, no less. Venom and Ocelot were just different faces of the same coin.

 

“Why do you do this for me?”

Ocelot looked up blankly. He had sat on the bed absently and started to wait for Venom to finish. “Boss,” he glanced over only to see the soldier in nothing but a towel, both their faces dripping with exhaustion. “I’m just trying to help.”

Venom furrowed his brow, “Wh-... What was between us? What don’t I remember?”

The spy shook his head slowly, “Don’t worry about it.”

 

The low, tiny _wrr_ of Venom’s prosthetic punctuated the stiff silence as he balled his fist repeatedly, looking way from Ocelot. “Then what happened on that whaler?”

A kiss. A long, passionate kiss. The kind of of kiss Ocelot never received from John before bidding him goodbye. That’s what happened.

 

The spy couldn’t bring himself to say anything, he just stood up slowly in response. “I think it’s high time both of us went to bed, Boss.” He threw his gloves back on and it took everything inside himself to keep his hands from shaking.

 

Venom stepped close, the two a few measly inches from one another. He placed his right hand on the spy’s cheek, leaving his bionic arm hanging loosely at his side, “Ocelot.”

 

The two parted and frowned at one another, Ocelot pulling away and refusing to my eye contact. There was a pause, and then he turned for the door, not bothering to look over his shoulder, “Goodnight.”

  
The metal door shut in place, and the ocean's tide kept crashing up against the base, just as it did before and just as it will longer after.


End file.
